


The Grand Dance

by saraid



Category: Star Wars Episode I: The Phantom Menace
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-08
Updated: 2012-09-08
Packaged: 2017-11-13 20:36:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/507477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saraid/pseuds/saraid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>a routine exercise goes awry. contains discussion of past sexual abuse of a child. beta'd by lillith and lori, a million years ago. first posted 6-2-99</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Grand Dance

* * * * * * *

"Good morning, Master."

When all the answer he received was a nod, Obi-Wan fell into step beside Qui-Gon Jinn and lowered his head, hands clasped behind his back, his mannerisms carefully adopted over the years to be different from his Master's. The Jedi knight concealed his own hands in the voluminous sleeves of his heavy brown cloak, which contrasted with the light brown of Obi-Wan's apprentice cloak.

They walked the corridor in silence, a silence the apprentice was becoming accustomed to. It had been growing between them for at least the past two years that he could tell, and probably longer than that. No doubt his Master - who was controlled, dignified, and calm above all else - could pinpoint the exact date this silence had begun.

It took little effort now to smother the sigh that rose in him, the tinge of sadness that welled sometimes, and he did it almost automatically.

Qui-Gon had chosen him from the ranks of apprentices nearly seven years ago, and in the beginning their relationship had been excellent; productive and close. The Jedi had been his surrogate father, best friend, brother, everything he'd missed while at the academy, everything he's lost when his parents gave him up before he was a year old.

And then it had changed.

Qui-Gon had become quieter, and in response his student had also. Pauses once filled with conversation, speculation and education were now overwhelmed by this silence. Although he had talked to people, his friends, when he saw them, and even two of the other Masters, when the occasion arose, no one had been able to help him understand this. For the most part they expressed disbelief, unable to see that anything was wrong - they were a very successful team, taking more than their fair share of missions and accomplishing them, winning at the annual competitions the academy held, outwardly close and in tune with each other. Mostly what others had done was encourage him to do the one thing he could not do, under the circumstances. Talk to Qui-Gon.

"Do we have a new assignment, Master?" He asked quietly, no expression on his handsome face.

"We are considered to be on leave for the rest of the week, Padawan." His Master replied softly. Try as he might Obi-Wan could detect no hint of censure or disapproval in that voice or the stance but still he felt that he should remain silent. "I have planned a day of physical activity for us, if that suits you."

Once, before this silence, Obi-Wan would have grinned at that, knowing that his master was teasing him about his enjoyment of competition. Like all apprentices he was well-trained in the martial arts, but he enjoyed them better than many and Qui-Gon had told him many times when he was younger that he had strengths there. Those were the times it was easier for him to feel and access the Force within him, to feel the ebb and flow of it and call it to him. Now, though, he held his tongue, unsure what answer he could give.

Squaring off in the gymnasium, which had a selection of battle rings to choose from, Obi-Wan flipped his cloak forward and back again, teasing the edges of it with his mind, making it billow and flow. Across the ring from him Qui-Gon waited patiently and he was suddenly, inexplicably, embarrassed.

"I'm sorry, Master." He said quickly, drawing himself into a starting stance. "I am ready now."

"If you are sure." Qui-Gon could have smiled when he said that, but he did not. Instead he raised his lightsaber and brought it down in a particular pattern that made Obi-Wan's heart speed up, but there was no chance to comment before the movement was completed and it was time to start.

As one they moved, lightsabers glowing, flashing across the ring in a pass - not touching one another, their blades whispering with proximity. Whirling, cloaks flowing, they did it again, and again, each pass becoming more complex, each one bringing them closer.

This was the grand dance, the most elaborate and complicated of training exercises. It required two minds in harmony with years of practice between them to perform at this level, the speed at which they moved. Lightsabers blurred, cloaks hung suspended in midair as they dipped and slashed, twisted and turned. Moments like these were when Obi-Wan felt most alive, most connected with the Force and he knew in his heart that Qui-Gon had initiated this pattern for his pleasure. A rare-spoken man, his master seldom said emotional things aloud, but the opportunity to engage in this exercise spoke volumes to his apprentice, who smiled as he whirled and spun and thrust and parried.

Though it was early in the day a small audience gathered, of apprentices and Masters alike, for the grand dance wasn't often practiced in public. The last time Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan had done performed it with an audience had been in competition the year before. They had not won, two Masters who now trained and worked together had claimed that honor, but they had been the only Master/Padawan team to place, taking the honor of fourth.

Turning on his heel for a particularly tight turn - the moves were the same as they had been when developed perhaps centuries before - Obi-Wan saw the small, tight grin that lightened his Master's lips out of the corner of his eye and felt an answering expression blossom on his own face. Meeting in the center at the halfway point of the exercise, their eyes met and something exchanged between them and when they spun away again, racing to separate sides of the circle, it was to come together faster, harder, stronger - faster now, their features blurring as well as their lightsabers as they built to the climax of the exercise, leaping and tumbling with the help of the Force, glowing blades passing within millimeters of vulnerable flesh.

Feeling the Force wrapping around him, pulling him with it, Obi-Wan opened himself to it, his mind acting on its own, using this new strength to seek the cause of the silence that tormented him, and suddenly he knew.

The realization hit him such power that he actually stumbled. On the upswing of a parry, with his Master's blade approaching far too fast to be stopped, Obi-Wan stumbled, took a deadly step forward, and Qui-Gon's blade passed through his arm.

He saw it all, time slowed around him as it always did when he was so finely focused; The horror on his Master's face as he saw his Padawan falter, the tremendous effort Qui-Gon made, twisting himself painfully to turn his blade, to miss his target, but the blade came on, already set on its course, with only a nanosecond of time until it struck - and strike it did, biting deep, agony searing through Obi-Wan's body as his hand spasmed and his own blade dropped to the floor, the glowing blade dimming instantly.

Qui-Gon made no sound save for an anguished gasp, throwing himself to the floor to catch his student and cushion his fall, even before the stunned audience had a chance to react.

"No." Obi-Wan heard the whisper but couldn't place the tone. Already he was trying to lessen the agony he felt, to convince his body that it wasn't so bad, it could be handled, he just had to get a handle on it...

Then Qui-Gon was holding him, cradling him, his hands covering the cauterized edges of the wound, pouring his strength and support into Obi-Wan as the pain took him briefly away.

"Sleep." Qui-Gon commanded, one hand waving fluently before Obi-Wan's clenched face. "Sleep, my Padawan..."

Relieved, blissfully grasping for that release, Obi-Wan allowed his mind to accept the command of his Master and sank into oblivion.

 

"Master?" Hating the way he sounded - weak and tired - Obi-Wan raised his head from the pillow it lay on and tried to open sleep-weighted eyes. "Master?"

"Your master is not here." The voice was warm, slightly arrogant, and stern. Even without looking he recognized it and was confused by its presence.

"Master Windu? Where is Master Qui-Gon?"

"Your master has been ordered to his quarters to rest, though I doubt he's following that particular order." The right chair of the Jedi Council loomed over him, looking characteristically thoughtful. "Your mishap has pained him greatly."

"It was my fault." Struggling to sit but finding that he could not, his arms felt like limp noodles, especially the injured one, he spat the words out feeling something like desperation. "He can't be punished, it was my lack that caused the injury!"

"He is not to be punished." A large, warm hand caressed his forehead and he sank back into the bed, his remaining strength ebbing. "Your first thought is his defense and not your own condition, apprentice. Why is this? The Council has been concerned about you, and your Master, for many months now. What has caused this rift between you that still leaves you both more worried for the other than yourself?"

"I know not." Weakly he protested, lying to a Council Master, knowing full well that the man would see right through him.

"Then we will consider transferring you to another, to let this which pollutes your souls be cleansed.

"No!" Even before he shouted it he knew that would be the worst thing that could happen. To lose his Master?! Never. It would be the end of his life as Jedi. But he said no more, seeing a dark frown on Master Windu's face.

"This decision is not yours to make." He said, removing his hand from Obi-Wan's aching head. "This will be discussed in the morning."

"Morning?" Looking around at last, he saw that he was in a small room of the infirmary. The window looked out into a dark sky.

"Your Master sent you deep into sleep. The healers have come and gone, your arm will have no permanent damage, though it will be tender and ache for many days." Windu was watching him with narrowed eyes.

"We have to talk about it in the morning?" He asked again, feeling thick-headed and stupid with sleep. "Master Qui-Gon and I?"

"Yes." Leaning over him again, Master Windu touched his face lightly, sending a whisper of energy into him, helping him awake. "Rest until then. Some one will be in to sit with you when I leave."

"My Master, please...." Allowing the words to trail off, Obi-Wan saw the frown that darkened Master Windu's face.

"I do not think that best at this time."

Subsiding, Obi-Wan wished briefly that he were gifted with telepathy, as some Jedi. But it was not his strength, nor his Master's, and so there would be no way to contact him short of crawling out of bed and going to him. He suspected that was why he would be sat with, not because he was in any danger or could not be left alone. Looking up he saw the small smile that played on Master Windu's mouth and knew that his thoughts showed on his face, something Qui-Gon had warned him about often, before the silence came between them.

"You will stay here for the night." He said, sounding amused but caring. "It is for the best, young Obi-Wan."

"Not like I have a choice." He grumbled, turning to his side, causing a flare of pain in his arm. Quickly it was lifted and a pillow slipped beneath it, and the pain faded. "Thanks." The words were grudging - he wanted no one but Qui-Gon helping him this way.

"In the morning, then." A last stroke of his short-cropped hair, kindness and encouragement, and then Obi-Wan closed his eyes, realizing that once again he had been commanded to sleep, marveling that this Master required no words to focus the command even as he obeyed it.

 

On his knees, in the center of his spartan room, the Jedi knight, Master Qui-Gon Jinn, meditated. Seeking enlightenment and understanding of the terrible thing that he had allowed to happen, he took his mind back over the last few steps of the exercise, and found only one indication of trouble, an indication he had missed entirely in the heat of the moment.

Having a reputation for being headstrong and following his own path, Qui-Gon knew he gave the impression of self-confidence, but that was not the whole truth. His doubts did come, and if he hid them better than others or dealt with them in a more private manner, then that was neither to his credit nor to be held against him. Like so many things governed by the Force, it simply was.

Six years ago, when he had determined to teach his adolescent Padawan the grand dance, other masters had spoken against him. They said Obi-Wan was too young, too inexperienced, too vulnerable to a mistake. It was never taught before the age of fifteen, no matter what level the Padawan's physical skills. But there was no actual rule against it and Qui-Gon had persevered, starting out in slow motion, delighting in his charge's abilities to follow and remember each move. The pattern was usually learned over the course of years but Obi-Wan had mastered it in months. Though his master knew that was in part because they had worked at it extensively, it was also a commentary on the boy's natural command of the Force. Calmest when moving, Obi-Wan was gifted in that area and it had been - and still was - Qui-Gon's duty as his master to refine that gift.

Now the question would be why he had failed so miserably. If they were to dance that dance - and they had, hundreds of times, successfully at that speed - there had to be absolute trust between them. Obi-Wan had been injured and that could only mean that that trust, necessary for their pairing, had been broken. But Qui-Gon simply could not think of how that had come to be.

He wasn't the greatest of masters. His first student had turned to the dark side despite all of his efforts to save him. Indeed, he had resisted taking another apprentice until Master Yoda had pointed the boy Obi-Wan out to him and said that he thought no one but Qui-Gon could do him justice. With that quietly worded almost order the Jedi had approached the boy, who was engaging, lively, small of stature. That and his youthful face often made people think he was younger than his actual years, but he was gradually, under Qui-Gon's tutelage, learning to use that to his advantage.

They had been busy years, their years together. Many missions, many successes, some failures. But through them all the affection and trust between them had grown and flourished, even after that perplexing silence had surfaced.

Of course he was aware of it. He knew that Obi-Wan thought it had escaped him, but Qui-Gon was also known for being observant. And keeping his own counsel. If his student had tried to speak of it they would have, but privately doubted that would have served any purpose. It loomed between them, a wall that could not be breached, but yet it didn't actually affect anything. They still communicated with an ease others were envious of - Qui-Gon knew this because he had heard the words spoken aloud - and their accomplishments were still an assortment any Master could be proud of - if he were so inclined to feel that emotion.

Pride goeth before a fall, and he had fallen despite the battle he raged with his vanity. Not overly proud of himself or the life he led, the Jedi had allowed himself to be proud of his pupil, as Obi-Wan's achievements multiplied and reflected back on him, giving him a small taste of quiet glory, quietly, abashedly savored before it was dismissed.

His back was growing stiff and his knees hurt, he had maintained the position too long, but he slipped past the growing discomfort in his mind, seeking deeper, wanting to see more than the surface, things he had meditated on and questioned again and again over the years. Meditation was a tool and could be used many ways; to cleanse the soul of negative emotion, to seek answers from the Force, to increase one's connection with the Force. And to soothe the soul be reliving positive experiences, this, too, was an appropriate use of the mind's eye, and one Qui-Gon enjoyed, a simple, secret vice.

Perhaps vice was where the problem lay? Like all Jedi Qui-Gon was seldom drawn to the pleasures of the flesh. Not avoiding them out of a sense of prudery or self-righteousness, but because physical attraction could cloud the mind and lead to unbalanced thinking. The few times he had indulged over the past few years had been with carefully selected, most trusted longtime friends, during times when his actions were his own and not at the beck and call of the Council. Those times were few and far between and he cherished the memories, but did not truly yearn for anything more, despite the demands his body occasionally made. Those could be eased with meditation as well, or, failing that, he could relieve himself in the time-honored fashion. Resolutely he refused to answer the voice inside him that claimed his reticence was more the result of old fears unhealed than a desire to hold himself to a noble standard of purity.

It had pleased him, over the years, to see his student adopt the same code where lust was concerned. After a brief experimental stage his student had also chosen the path of celibacy, and seemed to walk it with more grace than others his age. If Qui-Gon had encouraged that, it was to make Obi-Wan's life easier. Lust could lead to the dark side, and love often led to heartache, and all of them were distracting for a Jedi, who often could not afford to be distracted. Like this morning.

Still he did not know what had happened. What had surprised Obi-Wan to that extent, that he had broken concentration so badly that Qui-Gon had hurt him? Was it his own fault, should he, Qui-Gon, have checked more closely with his Padawan before starting that particular exercise? He had wanted to reward his student for being, as he was, such a good student, for working so hard, and he knew how Obi-Wan loved to perform the grand dance. The faster and the flashier they did it, the better he liked it. His jumps became higher, his spins tighter, his passes faster. This morning they had reached a peak that had frankly shocked Qui-Gon, but he had kept up - he didn't know how! - feeding off Obi-Wan's glorious energy as the younger man fed off his solidity every day.

He was the anchor, Obi-Wan the flame, but they were more alike underneath than many thought.

With his back aching and his breathing shallow, Master Qui-Gon Jinn meditated and tried fruitlessly to locate the answer to a question he didn't even know how to ask.

As much as he hated to admit it, there were time when he, too, was forced to seek the counsel of others, and in his case he turned to the one man he trusted aside from his Padawan; the man that had helped him heal from his own darkness, his Master.

 

The room was dimly lit, and only one man sat in the row of chairs that formed the half- circle, apparently reading. But he looked up as soon as the door opened and a warm smile lightened his dark face.

"I wondered when you would come to me." He said gently, the tone lightly scolding.

Approaching with his hands tucked away, head high, Qui-Gon had to swallow before he could answer.

"It has been difficult." He muttered, feeling graceless and ashamed.

"Asking for help has never been one of your strong points, Qui-Gon." Master Windu still spoke gently. "I spent years telling you that you needed to change that."

"I have changed all that I will." Throwing his head back, Qui-Gon pinned him with a rebellious stare. "I seek your counsel, not memories."

"Then, sit, Master Qui-Gon." Windu gestured at the chair nearest him, which just happened to be Yoda's, and used his title to put the conversation onto a formal level. "Sit, and tell me what has happened between you and your Padawan that could lead you to this desperate measure." Gently mocking, his words were nonetheless kind and Qui-Gon did sit, not sprawling comfortably, but tall and tense. Silent for several minutes, he spoke at last, Master Windu waiting and watching him.

"I do not know." He sighed heavily, bowing his head.

"But you suspect." Dark eyes studied him critically.

"Yes." A gasp, then the emotion was banished and he raised his head again, meeting those eyes. "It is not his fault."

"He said the same thing about you. Almost the first words out of his mouth." Windu observed.

"Yes, he would." Turning his head Qui-Gon stared out of the floor-to-ceiling windows at the night sky, lit by thousands of lights, many moving, many stationary, a living tapestry that had never before failed to make him smile. "My Padawan -" He paused, swallowed, and then tried again, "Obi-Wan has developed a romantic attachment to me."

"It happens." Windu said with forced casualness, twining his fingers together and turning his attention to them. "Fairly frequently."

"His are not a passing fancy." Qui-Gon said, the words coming hard. "I did not see it, before. But now - now I understand."

"And what do you think should be done about it?"

"I do not know." Bowing his head again, Qui-Gon held his breath, but his Master knew him well and saw the shudder that ran through him. Standing quickly, he went to him and stroked his back with one large hand, whispering.

"Calm. Ease. Courage." And after a time Qui-Gon was able to raise his head and look him in the eyes.

"I would not survive his loss."

"Then you will have to be what he needs you to be." Master Windu said softly, still stroking him back lightly, using the Force to sooth the distraught man.

"How? I cannot even tell him!" Lurching from the chair, Qui-Gon strode to the center of the room, tension in every line of his lean body. "I can barely think of it."

"After so many years, Qui-Gon." Sounding sad, Windu did not follow him. "I did not serve you as well as I thought."

"You did all you could and more." Qui-Gon looked at him, putting the Force behind the words, needing him to believe them. "There was nothing more."

"You need to decide." Taking his seat again, Master Windu watched as Qui-Gon, normally a calm man, a man who made stillness an art form, pace restlessly around the Chamber. "We have all night, Qui-Gon. Take what time you need."

There was no reply, just a grateful look, as the Jedi Master sought to clear his mind through movement. Master Windu read quietly and the night passed, Qui-Gon thinking, debating, discussing internally, in the safe, soothing presence of his own Master.

 

"Master!" Obi-Wan's quiet bark of happiness to see Qui-Gon was quickly stifled as even the man he spoke to frowned. Subsiding, returning his gaze to the floor beneath his feet, the apprentice, embarrassed, wondered why he had spoken aloud and without permission. And why was he staring at the floor? Raising his head, he slowly looked around the room. Only two of the many chairs were taken. Master Windu and another he did not recognize, not even the race, were the only ones present. So it was not to be a full Council meeting, which eased his heart, because that meant that Qui-Gon was not to be punished, as Master Windu had said.

The large windows of the Council chamber were bright with early morning sunshine and flitters dashed by on errands, streaks of color against the blue-grey sky.

His arm throbbed painfully as Qui-Gon approached and it took a real effort on his part to soothe some of that pain, knowing it for a distraction and needing his mind to be clear for whatever lie ahead. Then the pain faded completely from his body and Qui-Gon was standing at his side, using the Force with breathtaking ease, to soothe and support his charge.

"Qui-Gon Jinn." Master Windu spoke first. "There has been a serious training mishap with your Padawan, who is far too old for such accidents to occur. Can you tell us what happened yesterday morning?"

"You know all that I know." Qui-Gon answered with a sideways look at Obi-Wan, who returned it in honest confusion, but waited for his turn to speak, not wishing to be reprimanded here, if front of these important people.

Then Windu spoke to him directly.

 

"We have known for some time that there is a tension between yourself and your Master." he said, and Obi-Wan met his eyes steadily. "But it did not seem to be affecting your education or your advancement as a Jedi, so no action was taken. But now it's clear that something must be done before one or both of you are badly injured because of this lack in communication."

"I have noticed it too." Qui-Gon sounded relieved to speak of it to Obi-Wan and the padawan rejoiced mentally. "Although I have tried I could not find the source of the anxiety that divides us. You are an excellent student and have done nothing that would make me anything less than proud."

Feeling his face heat at the open compliment, the apprentice ducked his head down again, but turned it to stare at Qui-Gon's patrician profile.

"And you have not talked about it?" Windu sounded scolding.

"It seemed unwise." Obi-Wan's Master sketched a shrug with his hands. "There didn't seem to be a solution, and we were dealing with it adequately."

"I have never know yo? His Master had done nothing to be ashamed of. He had kept no secrets from his student. Wanting to protest, he let his eyes rest on his Master, who stood only a couple of feet away, but from the way he stared at the floor it might as well have been a galaxy. Steadfastly he refused to look up and meet Obi-Wan's eyes, to meet anyone's eyes. The young man had never seen his master back down from any challenge and it frightened him deeply.

"Master?" He asked, voice soft and questioning.

Qui-Gon flickered a glance in his direction, but that was all.

"If it would be easier for you -" Obi-Wan swallowed heavily, " - if it meant that you would not have to go through this, as I can see that you dread it, I will accept another to train me. If it would spare you pain." The words fell from his lips, too fast, proving his anxiety, but they were sincere despite his fear that they would be accepted.

Snapping his head up, his Master stared at him. Obi-Wan saw that his eyes were dark and filled with sadness.

"I do not want that."

"Perhaps it would be the best option." From his seat Windu interrupted. "It may be that the Council was too determined in the matter of your apprentice, Qui-Gon. You did not seem willing to take him at first, and yet you later celebrated your new position with honest happiness."

Staring at him, Obi-Wan knew his shock showed. Master Qui-Gon had not wanted him? Of course he knew of the failed apprentice, the one who had gone over to the dark side, but Master Qui-Gon had not wanted him? In all of their years together he had never known that.

"After I adjusted I was happy.." A quiet murmur and Qui-Gon dropped his gaze from Obi-Wan's, his stance slumping slightly. The younger man had never seen his Master looking defeated. "He had become all that is good of me."

"I know this has been be painful for you." Windu said, with a wealth of compassion in his voice, the same compassion Obi-Wan heard in the voice of his Master every time he spoke. It was one of Qui-Gon's greatest gifts, his ability to feel for others, and it was always there on the surface. To hear it from Master Windu, whom he normally saw as emotionally withdrawn, uninvolved, made him worry all the more. "I know this decision was agonizing, because I sat with you while you made it. But you have made the right choice, Qui-Gon. What we do here today could save your relationship, and cleanse your soul, as you know it needs cleaning." Nodding at the fourth and as-yet not introduced Council member, he sat back again. "Master Zzzztph has a unique control of the Force." He seemed to be speaking to Obi-Wan, who found it hard to give him his full attention in light of all that he was hearing. "He can manipulate it so that visions can be drawn from memories and made visible to all present, as long as they can touch the Force. We seldom call upon his expertise, but this time we have agreed that it is necessary."

Still staring at the floor, Qui-Gon spoke, still quietly, withdrawn himself. "I thank you for your kindness, Master Zzzztph."

"There will be no record made of this session." Master Windu added, and then snapped at him, startling Obi-Wan further. "Look up, Qui-Gon. You are not a lamb led to the slaughter, to cower and hide."

Watching out of the corner of his eyes, not wanting to stare and add to his Master's discomfort, Obi-Wan saw him raise his head and set himself square, meeting the glare head-on.

"I bear witness." Master Windu said, and it sounded like a ritual phrase.

Drawing his six hands together, Master Zzzztph entwined them into a complex pattern and stared into the center of the room, apparently at nothing.

"The events you will witness, young Padawan," Windu was speaking to him and Obi-Wan forced his attention to him, "They are not for public consumption, nor even to be discussed with your closest friends. There are things in many peoples' lives that they wish to remain private and it is your duty as a Padawan to protect and respect your Master's privacy in this as in all other matters."

"Yes, Master Windu." Clenching his hands in the folds of his cloak, he forced them to relax, not wanting to meet whatever this was any more anxious than he had to be.

"It will be alright, Obi-Wan." Qui-Gon spoke in the same soothing tone he used when his student was frustrated about not accomplishing something as well or as fast as he thought he should, a relatively common occurrence for the young Padawan. "It is something I should have told you myself, but I have been unable to do so."

He waited until Obi-Wan met his eyes and nodded, then returned his gaze to the Master who waited for them to finish.

"Begin." Windu uttered the word, and Qui-Gon flinched, barely detectable. But Obi-Wan knew him well enough to see it, and silently wished he could ease this pain.

A flutter of light drew his attention from his Master, though not fully, and he turned his head in time to see a picture forming. It wasn't a hologram, though it was fashioned of light, and tendrils of it snaked almost invisibly back to Master Zzzztph, which helped Obi-Wan understand that he was creating it, as Master Windu had said.

The scene formed and Obi-Wan watched, curious but wanting to stay an observer and not get into it too much. He wanted to keep an eye on his Master and watch his reactions to it.

It was in the creche, which was one huge, sprawling building now, filled with rooms and rooms, but here seemed to be smaller and somehow darker.

"The visions are often 'colored' by the emotional content." Windu commented, as if reading Obi-Wan's thoughts, which he wasn't supposed to be able to do.

There was a group of toddlers, between the ages of one and two, little boys and girls, running around naked while an older woman in the robes of a Jedi sat on the floor, talking to them. At first it seemed that she was playing a game, but then the words became clear and Obi-Wan recognized one of the first lessons he remembered from his training.

"Space around you, space in front. Space behind and then we jump!" She clapped her hands on the word 'jump' and the little ones all jumped, many of them stumbling but some actually going up and landing firmly. "Good, good, Qui-Gon, that was very high." She praised and one of the little boys, with his short-cropped hair and big smile, who was maybe a tiny bit taller than his peers, and he chortled gleefully at her and jumped again, arms stretched wide as he landed neatly.

Body control and using the Force to boost movement was one of the Jedi's biggest strengths and taught from a very early age. Obi-Wan remembered the day he had looked back on these times, reminiscing, and realized that even then they were being taught about the Force, even if they never heard the word and no one spoke of it specifically. 'Space around, space in front' was one of the first chants they learned, designed to make them think about the space around them, which in turn led to thinking about the Force. Eventually.

The giggling little boy faded and a taller, thinner child took his place. The scene shifted to a training room, where most apprentices-to-be were first acquainted with lightsabers and combat. This little boy had the same wide blue eyes and a cheerful smile, but he was also a touch serious, concentrating on the young Master while holding a training stick properly and following the first teaching patterns. Obi-Wan tried to place his age and he decided he was about five, maybe six. The same age he himself had been when he was promoted to training classes and out of the creche.

Sneaking a look at his Master, he saw that Qui-Gon's face was set and hard, an expression he had never seen on the man before. He stared at the vision with single-minded intensity.

Caught up by that expression, Obi-Wan didn't look again until the vision had changed.

A still slightly older Qui-Gon, nine or ten or maybe a very tall eight, playing with a group of children on a field, taking his turn in relay races and jumping competitions, laughing and smiling. It seemed that other children were drawn to him, gathering around him, clearly happy to be in his presence. With generous spirit he gave equal attention to them all, and so was the center of attention himself without having sought the spotlight.

The room abruptly darkened and Obi-Wan glanced around, startled to find that the room was actually still bright with sunlight, it was the scene that had darkened ominously, and that had drawn him into it. When he looked back, his eyes sliding over his Master, who stood so still, the scenes were changing more quickly, only visible for a few seconds, just long enough to make sense of them.

Qui-Gon, looking like a younger version of himself at last, though odd with the short hair and clean-shaven face, standing beside another apprentice, beaming up at him.

That same apprentice hugging the adolescent Qui-Gon affectionately. Then, later? - Obi-Wan couldn't tell, but under different circumstances because the setting had changed - the older boy kissing Qui-Gon, touching him. It made Obi-Wan uncomfortable and he looked away, but his eyes met Yoda's and he forced them back.

Just in time to see the older boy, now a man, holding a crying Qui-Gon, who was struggling in his arms. The young Qui-Gon, tall and too thin the way boys are when they grow too quickly, was naked and flushed red, the older boy, whom Obi-Wan still did not recognize but would hate if such emotion weren't so detrimental, was dressed as an apprentice, and the slit in his trousers was undone, letting an angry-looking erection stick out. Slowly he pushed Qui-Gon's head down toward it and Obi-Wan felt himself flush red with anger and yes, some embarrassment, but controlled it fiercely, demanding it fade, and it did.

Scenes flashed quicker now and he couldn't tell if that was because they were harsh, or because Master Zzzztph was trying to spare Master Qui-Gon. There was more abuse, then a stark vision of the two of them in bed together, another Master, this one someone Obi-Wan did recognize - he had died only recently - bursting into the room and pulling the apprentice off of Qui-Gon, who was no longer fighting, only lying still and tolerating what was being done to him. Then, in rapid succession; the apprentice being dismissed, Qui-Gon being counseled, sitting silent and unresponsive, then back again in classes. Top-ranked, but no longer the center of attention. Sitting alone at meals, speaking only briefly when spoken to, quickly becoming a fixture at the backs of rooms, just as Obi-Wan knew him now. Watching, waiting, weighing, measuring. Observing. A part of things and yet removed from them.

Apprenticed, standing tall at Master Windu's side, but silent, as if seeking his Master's shadow.

The last vision lingered on Qui-Gon, now in his early twenties, his hair allowed to grow, beard roughening his face, standing at the side of a room filled with milling Jedi - meeting, greeting, quietly celebrating something.

No one approached him, or tried to draw him into conversation. Those passing smiled at him, friendly, but didn't try to convince him to join them. It didn't seem as if they were talking about him, just that this was the way he was, and everyone accepted it, as Obi-Wan always had himself, because His Master had been this way as long as he had known him.

Watching the last of the manipulated light fade, Obi-Wan found it suddenly hard to breathe, understanding flooding him, leaving him chilled and nauseous.

"It's me." He whispered, looking at the floor again, unwilling to see the expressions on their faces, because they already knew what he just now understood. "I am the cause of the silence."

"I allowed it to continue." Qui-Gon said softly, his voice closer than Obi-Wan had expected, which made him flinch, but he did not move away.

"An adolescent attachment to a Master is often encountered." Master Windu spoke evenly. "Many times it is a passing fancy, quickly sublimated or turned to another object of affection. Occasionally it is true, and strong and the Master works with the Padawan to develop something permanent from it, if it is returned. Those can be the most powerful of relationships, in terms of both depth and in use of the Force."

Holding himself very, very still, Obi-Wan entertained the thought that he might get lucky; the floor might actually open up and swallow him whole. Or there could be an attack, right there in the Council Chamber, and he could die nobly in battle... anything would be better than standing here and hearing this.

It was his fault. The distance that so worried him between his Master and himself was his doing. However innocent and unintentioned it had been, the feelings he had for his Master - and they were strong feelings, deep and true, he knew he had never and would never feel this way for anyone else - those feelings were driving his Master away.

And he couldn't stop feeling them.

"Obi-Wan?" Master Windu asked, and it sounded as if it wasn't the first time. "Are you with us?"

"I'm sorry." He said, daring to glance at his Master, seeing Qui-Gon had wrapped his arms around himself, a characteristic pose that now symbolized far more than unease to his student. "I didn't realize..."

"That your feelings ran so deep? Neither did we, or we would have stepped in sooner."

"I would never act on them." Hands tightening, he still could not look at Qui-Gon. "I didn't even recognize them!"

"Nor did I." At last Qui-Gon spoke, harsh and sad. "If I had made myself look at that distance, at the pain that was pulling us apart, I would have seen it. But I turned a blind eye to that which I did not want to see, and that is my failing, Padawan, not yours."

Even now he was the Master, relieving his apprentice of the burden, willing to carry it for him.

"No!" Shocking himself, the younger man turned and glared at Qui-Gon. "I did it. I feel this way - I won't let you take that guilt as well!"

The air crackled with energy as they faced off, Qui-Gon looking both stunned and proud, Obi-Wan realizing he had taken a fighting stance. And then Master Windu was between them, his words calming, wrapping the Force around them like a warm, fluffy blanket, soothing the rough edges of their emotions.

Qui-Gon looked away from Obi-Wan, then back again. The sadness in his eyes was palpable and the apprentice knew from where his Master drew his strength, which was renowned among the Jedi.

Qui-Gon the calm.

Qui-Gon was sure, and solid, and gifted. Compassionate to a fault, yet able to be almost cruelly pragmatic.

It all came from the pain he had experienced, the scars he still carried on his soul.

As soon as he understood this, in that very instant, Obi-Wan wanted to change it. He wanted to heal those wounds and smooth those scars or, at the very least, carry that pain for him.

"Love such as you are offered is rare, Qui-Gon." Master Windu said, his voice hushed, and Obi-Wan saw that everyone there had sensed his careening emotions and he was ashamed to have so little control.

"I know." His Master's voice, equally hushed, desperately sad.

"Is there no chance you could accept it?" Windu sounded nearly as sad and Obi-Wan remembered something else he had learned from the visions; Master Windu had been Master Qui-Gon's own Master, nearly three decades ago. Strange that he had never wondered before, who had trained the Master that trained him so well.

There was a pause, filled with the almost audible song of the Force. Sometimes, in the presence of great skill, it vibrated in the air, all of the midi-chlorians present adding their own microscopic movement until the air itself seemed to sing, but there was no sound. Obi-Wan felt his body tingle. He felt the Force rising in him, reaching for the others, bonding them together in this moment, and he wanted it to stretch on forever, especially if it meant he would not have to bear the agony of his Master's response.

And when it came, it was not what he expected.

"That I do not know." Qui-Gon spoke with power and took a deep breath. "The burdens of my childhood weigh me down and yet when I look at him I feel as if I could fly."

"Do you wish to fly with him?"

Qui-Gon was not looking at Obi-Wan, but at Windu and Obi-Wan found that he couldn't look at Qui-Gon either.

"I wish -." He stopped, swallowed, and then tried again. "I wish to try."

"Wise words." Windu said, but Obi-Wan found himself watching Qui-Gon, who met his look with a small, hesitant smile.

Master Windu returned to his seat, leaning forward, speaking urgently.

"If the two of you can fix this, can remove this distance between you, you will be all the more powerful for it. A better team, a better pair, and better Jedi. The Force will reward you with a life together. If you can't then there will be no choice but to separate you, permanently, for both of your sakes'. Unrequited love and unhealed longing are yet another path to he dark side, and we will not lose either of you to that."

Both of them were silent through this. Almost as an afterthought Obi-Wan realized that Master Zzzztph had left the chamber.

"After everything you've survived, Qui-Gon." Master Windu spoke directly to his former student, who had not moved, was still standing stiff and still, tall and shielded. "To fail now would be a tragedy."

"I understand." Master Qui-Gon replied and Obi-Wan wondered what he had missed. Had there been another conversation there, underneath the one he had heard?

Turning slowly, extending his hand, Master Qui-Gon spoke, his voice measured and calm.

"Come, Obi-Wan. We have much to discuss."

"May the Force be with you." Master Windu whispered as Obi-Wan took his Master's hand, gripping his fingers tightly, and let himself be led from the Council Chamber.

Not knowing what to expect, Obi-Wan was perplexed when his Master did not lead him anywhere in particular. Still holding his hand, in a fashion more akin to a father leading a son, the Jedi knight seemed to be wandering, somewhat aimlessly, through the Jedi headquarters, eventually leaving the main building and strolling the path that led to the academy proper, through the well-tended gardens where healers and other sensitives as well as young apprentices came to practice their grasp on the Force, sitting alone and in groups, busily encouraging things to grow. The gardens flourished under the attention, but Obi-Wan was still feeling awkward and in the wrong.

At last he could take it no more. Watching Master Qui-Gon's face, he saw no more there than the man's usual contemplative expression.

Stopping, pulling his hand free, he put his hands on his hips and scowled.

"I did not mean to hurt you." The words were angrier than he'd intended, which led him to quickly re-evaluate his position in this. Was he angrier than he'd admitted to himself? The revelations of the morning had disturbed him, shifted his center, and yes, it seemed that he was indeed angry with his Master. For not telling him the truth about his childhood, or for ignoring a situation between them that it was his responsibility as the teacher to address? Or for not returning those feelings, or, worse, for not trusting him enough to know they could be spoken of and not acted upon.

"No more than I meant to hurt you." His Master said, resuming his stance of earlier; arms wrapped to his body, head up, shoulders square. Prepared to face whatever foe might offer, but feeling vulnerable about it, Obi-Wan read in the body language.

"I did not know, Master." Softening his tone, Obi-Wan took a step forward. "I didn't know what I was feeling, I've never felt it before. And I couldn't know that you couldn't speak of it."

"We speak of it now."

There was only a couple of feet between them, and they faced off, it seemed, as adversaries and not Master and Apprentice.

"Here?" Waving a hand, Obi-Wan indicated the public nature of the forum and protested it all at once.

"I do not know where else to go." His Master admitted, a small, wry smile pulling his lips.

"Are we going to discuss the heart of this problem, or act upon it?" Wanting to smile back, striving to control the urge to hug the man tightly, Obi-Wan tried for base practicality and wound up sounding seductive instead.

"I believe we just promised a very important member of the Council that we would act upon it." Now Qui-Gon was smiling, shaking his head a little bit. "How is your arm?" He changed the subject, reaching a hand to stroke Obi-Wan's shoulder with such tenderness the younger man felt tears well. His throat constricted and he had to fight for his next breath.

"Sore. Master, I do not think this will be a controlled experiment." He blurted past the obstruction.

"It's not supposed to be." Roughly Qui-Gon reached out and pulled him close with both hands, wrapping him in a loose embrace and bending his neck to press his face to Obi-Wan's. His hands came up over the smaller man's shoulders and held him more tightly. "There is little control in love, my Padawan."

"Master." Sighing, Obi-Wan sank into the embrace he hadn't known he wanted, and held on with all of his well-trained strength, his Master his anchor, as it had always been between them.

After a little while the crush of emotion passed and Qui-Gon pulled away gently.

"My quarters, Padawan. Will that suit you?"

"Perfectly, Master." He answered, grinning, but his stomach was quivering with nerves and his body was taut with anticipation. "Now?"

"No better time." Turning, Qui-Gon took up his pace down the path and Obi-Wan fell into step beside him, in his proper place in the world and feeling his anxiety ease. The world snapped back into its proper place as well and he could not help but look forward eagerly to what was to come.

"I love you, Master." He said softly, and heard an equally soft reply though Qui-Gon did not look at him.

"And I you."

Entering Qui-Gon's quarters just after his Master, Obi-Wan paused by the door, looking at the room with newly opened eyes.

Spartan was the word used to describe them, and he had used it himself. His own quarters were plain as well, but held mementos and items of personal significance, as well as some things just for comfort, like the thick blanket of Apalpalca wool that covered his sleeping pallet. It was the thickest, most sensual thing he had ever felt and he'd spent far too many credits for it, but it made the rare nights he spent in his quarters a treat to look forward to.

There were a couple of paintings he had tried his hand at, holocubes given to him by friends, and even a few things that could only be described as toys. Though his Master practiced a certain measure of self-denial, he had never suggested that his Padawan do the same.

So his quarters were bare, holding only a sleeping pallet and table, with a chair and wardrobe, and the pallet was covered in a thin blanket that looked as if it had been washed too often.

Obi-Wan found himself wishing he had suggested his own room.

The hand on his shoulder startled him from his thoughts and he looked up to see Qui-Gon smiling at him, understanding crinkling the corners of his bright blue eyes.

"We will move your things in when you're ready."

"Move?" He tried to make sense of that even as he realized that Qui-Gon had removed his own cloak and boots and was now attempting to do the same for Obi-Wan. "Master?"

On one knee, one hand on Obi-Wan's ankle and the other behind his knee, Qui-Gon was trying to get him to lift his foot so the boot could be removed.

"If we are to be together there's no reason for separate quarters, Obi-Wan." He said slowly. "Unless you wish to keep someplace just for yourself. I understand that I am not an ideal roommate."

"You're perfect." The words came so swiftly that he didn't have time to edit them before they were spoken. Dropping to his knees in front of Qui-Gon, the wall pressed to his back, he used a hand on the older man's thigh to steady himself.

"I am thirty years your senior, Padawan." Qui-Gon spoke softly, insistently. "I have experienced things that make me less than willing to share myself with anyone. Until you came into my life I lived for the Code and nothing more."

"And now?" Closing his eyes, Obi-Wan felt the back of his Master's knuckles stroke down his face, the skin warm and slightly rough. Scratchy.

"Now I live to live. I live to teach you, my Padawan."

The words were whispered close enough that he could taste the breath that carried them and instinctively Obi-Wan parted his lips, wetting them with the tip of his tongue. Immediately his face was cradled between both large hands, tilted upward, and then his Master was kissing him.

Mouths closed their lips pressed together, soft and then harder, then soft again. Swallowing down a moan Obi-Wan shifted on his knees, his hand gripping a handful of the worn material of Qui-Gon's trousers, the other going to the back of his Master's neck to pull him closer and kiss him harder.

They broke apart, not even an inch, and kissed again, and again, seemingly unable to stop.

"Obi-Wan." Qui-Gon whispered. "Beloved."

"Master." The younger man sighed, only to be interrupted by another short, sweet press of lips.

The hands on his face trembled, and the fingers stroked lightly over his skin, and then Qui-Gon was leaning back again, studying his face and Obi-Wan smiled shakily.

"I never asked, and now I know that is because I did not want to know." The older man paused, and then kissed the tip of his nose, drawing a grin and an unvoiced protest. "You have never lain with a man, have you."

It was a statement and not a question, but the younger man felt a need to explain, to be sure that his Master knew how deeply his feelings ran, as if he could not feel them for himself.

Holding on to Qui-Gon's shoulders, petting him with suddenly nervous fingers, he shook his head and watched his Master's eyes darken as he spoke.

"I have not lain with anyone, Master, man or woman."

"I did not realize." Nodding a little, Qui-Gon spoke as if to himself. "Of course, that makes this easier to understand. Even when we were unaware of what was between us our bodies were rejecting other choices."

"Why was it so hard to see?" Obi-Wan asked, hating the pain on Qui-Gon's face. "Because of what happened to you?"

"We created a self-sustaining loop." The older man shrugged delicately. "Your mind knew that what you wanted would drive me away, so it did not allow you to want it. But my mind knew anyhow and engaged itself in denying it so that I could work with you safely. We both knew but did not allow ourselves to know."

"And all that effort and energy dedicated to hiding this from us was diverted from us and so the distance was created." Obi-Wan finished, earning a smile and a gentle cuff to the side of his head.

"Which, when ignored long enough, became a dangerous silence." He was still smiling, but his face was serious as well. "I have taught you much, Padawan. Now it is your turn to teach me."

"What is there for you to learn from me, Master?" Obi-Wan asked, breathing deeply and seeing the other do the same.

"To trust you with my body as I do with my soul."

The words sent a spike of heat through the young man and he bit back a moan.

"Let us undress and lie together." Standing - Obi-Wan noticed that the movement wasn't as smooth as it had been when they met years ago - he pulled his apprentice up by the hand. "There is no hurry here."

"Good." Obi-Wan muttered, bringing that hand to his lips to be kissed. "It's important that we take as long as we need to do this right."

"Wise man." Leading him to the pallet Qui-Gon stopped beside it and began to gently undress him. His hands were en his hands went to Qui-Gon's belt, which bunched the fabric of his tunics over his muscled waist. "Are you ready, Master?"

"Yes." With an indrawn breath the older man seemed to prepare himself for Obi-Wan's touch, holding it until the tunics were pulled safely over his head, exhaling while Obi-Wan folded them as neatly as his Master would have, setting them beside his own stack of clothing.

For a moment he simply stared at the chest and torso revealed to him. He had, of course, seen his Master in less, even in nothing, before, but this was different. This was for him.

"For me." He murmured, leaning forward spontaneously and kissing just above his master's heart, just above the dark-colored nipple that contracted and hardened at the touch.

"For you." Qui-Gon agreed and his voice sounded strained. He gave a raspy chuckle and pulled his apprentice into his arms, a bit roughly, nuzzling Obi-Wan's face.

"You're not undressed yet, Master." He protested gently, tilting his head back to allow him better access.

The air around them sparked with energy and he could feel the constraints his mind had been under loosening, allowing the true weight of his emotions to be felt, and he sagged under it. How had he carried this alone for so long?

"I have you." Qui-Gon whispered into his ear, kissing his neck, his beard soft and tickly.

"It's about time." Obi-Wan found himself smiling widely just for the joy of it, and was answered with another, easier chuckle, rueful.

"I suppose it is."

Qui-Gon's hands on his head brought their mouths back together and this time Obi-Wan opened his mouth eagerly, inviting his Master in, and their tongues tangled, slipping and slithering together, pausing to suck air through flaring nostrils without breaking the contact.

Pressing his erection to Qui-Gon's thigh the younger man couldn't help but squirm, increasing the pressure. He didn't want to startle his Master - his lover - by being too aggressive, but was finding the contact too stimulating to resist. With an effort he demanded control from his wayward body and slowed the movements, concentrating on the kiss, opening his mouth to his Master wider, and yet wider still. Bent back over Qui-Gon's strong arm, clutching his shoulders, he felt himself being devoured, something he'd never expected, and he reveled in it.

Then he felt himself lifted. Opening his eyes he saw Qui-Gon's face, creased in concentration, lips moving over his own, more gently now, tongue teasing the roof of his mouth.

His Master was still holding him tightly, but now he was moving them both to the sleeping pallet, moving them easily, calling on the Force to augment his own strength. It was like flying and Obi-Wan felt a giggle bubble up out of him, feeling foolish but deeply loved.

"Master!" He scolded as they fell backwards in slow motion.

"Obi-Wan." His Master replied, pulling away as they landed lightly and then settled, gravity taking over once again. He was smiling and the younger man basked in the light that shown from him. "You were saying?" Qui-Gon prompted, his eyes laughing at the man beneath him as he shifted, laying between the legs Obi-Wan spread willingly.

"Absolutely nothing, Master." he replied, breath catching on a gasp as he felt Qui-Gon pressed intimately against him for the first time. "oh..."

"yes." Qui-Gon agreed almost silently.

Rocking his hips, Obi-Wan rubbed against Qui-Gon, skin separated below the waist by his Master's trousers. His hands roamed freely over the older man's back and shoulders, lingering on the scars he felt, scars he had seen before, marveling at the way he could pick each one out, tracing them with trembling fingertips. Qui-Gon sighed, and shifted, and began kissing his face and neck, nuzzling between small, soft kisses, breathing deeply and evenly, and at last pushing his groin back into Obi-Wan's, meeting his gentle thrusts rhythmically, until the pressure grew and Obi- Wan moaned, low and sweet, arms wrapping tightly around Qui-Gon's waist and holding on tightly, letting him move them.

Pushing up on his arms, Qui-Gon stopped, staring down at his student, who opened slightly wild eyes to stare back.

"Too - too much?" The younger man panted, suddenly worried that his master would change his mind, that this wonderful bonding would not take place.

"Maybe not enough." The words surprised him, but then Qui-Gon rolled away followed, grabbing for him, worry becoming something more. "Hang on, eager boy." Qui-Gon scolded lightly, sitting at the side of the pallet to slide smoothly out of his trousers, the rising and padding to the bathroom on nearly silent feet. Laying on his side, watching the retreating figure, Obi-Wan frankly ogled his Master's butt, which was firm and gently rounded, the muscles working smoothly, his lean back rippling. Older he might be, but to Obi-Wan he was as beautiful as any of the girls that had approached him over the years, more so.

He propped himself on an elbow and waited for his Master's return, becoming concerned when it took more than a couple of minutes.

"Master?" He called softly, wanting to give him privacy if that was what he desired, but also needing to know that everything was alright.

"I'll be out in a minute." Qui-Gon replied, and then he was. Carrying a small dark blue bottle in one hand, with the stopper removed. As he stretched out beside his apprentice Obi-Wan noticed that his free hand glistened with oil.

He touched it curiously, looking into his Master's eyes.

"This is something I want to give to you." Qui-Gon said softly. "For your first time."

"You do not have to." Feeling tears threaten again, Obi-Wan shook his head hard, wondering why he couldn't keep his emotions in check. He had never been so out-of-control, and it embarrassed him.

Lifting his clean hand, Qui-Gon brushed his fingers over Obi-Wan's wet eyes, smiling gently.

"This will pass, Padawan. The intensity will lessen, and we will have many years of love together. Enjoy the power of it while you can."

"I am." He answered, voice shaky. "But it feels very big, Master, and somewhat overwhelming. I am not used to being this way."

"It is a gift to feel this way." Qui-Gon pulled him close again, tucking his head into the hollow of his Master's shoulder. Snuggling close, Obi-Wan sighed and inhaled deeply, his Master's scent imprinting on his mind. Qui-Gon had never smelled bad to him, even when they were both muddy and filthy and unbathed for days and now, clean and smelling faintly of dandelion oil, he was irresistible. Continuing, he moved down his Master's body, scenting him, breathing deeply of him, and was rewarded with a soft moan of encouragement, Qui-Gon's hands moving to his head and rubbing gently at his short-cropped hair.

It seemed that his Master was willing to lie there and simply hold him for the rest of the night, and the thought made Obi-wan think further on their situation.

Qui-Gon had moved past his first fear and offered himself to Obi-Wan, but now he was not making any effort to follow up that desire. Trying to touch his Master with the Force, the apprentice was not surprised to find him tightly shielded, protecting himself behind a wall of control, from something Obi-Wan was certain he didn't truly wish to be protected from.

Qui-Gon was trapped in his own little feedback loop. Unable to take the encounter to the next level of his own initiative, he was apparently also incapable of relating that fact to Obi-Wan. So he stalled, cuddling and petting, and the student suddenly understood that if they were to achieve their goal tonight he would have to steer their course.

He smiled sadly, pressing a last kiss to the muscled chest beneath his lips, which was mostly smooth, only a small line of dark hair leading downwards from the navel, and slid up his Master's body, sitting up and straddling him boldly, hands caressing that chest.

Qui-Gon opened his eyes and stared up at him, his eyes darkened, but there was something else in them, something Obi-Wan had never seen there before.

Just a touch of fear - not fear for Obi-Wan's safety, that he had seen, and often - but a more personal fear. It made him want to kiss the man and hold him close, and protect the little boy he had been, and odd thing to feel for a man nearly twice his age.

"I will take care of you Master." He whispered, petting him tenderly. "Trust in me."

"I do." Gruff words and a shiver were his answer.

Kissing, petting, and caressing Qui-Gon, Obi Wan worked his way down and around the wonderful body, speaking as he went, wanting the older man to hear his feelings as well as sense them.

"I have longed to touch you like this, to taste you and know all of your secrets." Tonguing gently at the crease of thigh, which made Qui-Gon moan with appreciation, he turned his head to the side and nuzzled at the thick, curly hair of his groin, which was peppered with more grey, making it lighter than the heavy hair on his head. "You smell like yourself, taste the way I've always imagined..." It would have been nice to keep talking, but his mouth was full and Qui-Gon's hands were sliding over his head, not grabbing, just petting, and when he looked up, the head of his master's organ swollen in his mouth, he saw that Qui-Gon was staring down at him with wide, glittering eyes, breathing harshly, abdomen tight with tension.

He hummed, wanting to reassure without stopping what he was doing, but it had a somewhat different effect than he expected - Qui-Gon closed his eyes and arched slowly, as if fighting himself, pushing his hips up and his cock deeper into Obi-Wan's throat. It was a situation the younger mad had to deal with immediately, so he put his hands flat on Qui-Gon's sleek loins and pressed him back to the couch, giving himself some room to breath before he began to work on him, kissing, sucking, mouthing gently. Above him Qui-Gon moaned and head moved restlessly from side to side, hands leaving Obi-Wan's head and grasping handfuls of the bedclothes instead. The young man missed their touch but understood and was glad that his ears and hair were safe from pulls.

"Obi-Wan..." Panting the words out moments later, Qui-Gon did grab his head this time, tugging it away, but he resisted until he heard the next words. "Please, stop..." And he released him as quickly as he could, dropping one last kiss to the wet, throbbing length of it before slithering back up the taut body.

"It's alright, Master." He said, voice a trifle ragged as he sought air, not letting his weight rest on Qui-Gon. "We do not have to go any further than you are ready for."

"You have always been an impatient child." Qui-Gon softened the words with an embrace. "We will go as far as you like, Padawan." Holding his student's face between both hands again he continued, kissing the tip of his nose. "If you had continued, thought, the evening would have been over for me. Unlike you I do not have the assurance of youth that I will be able to complete the act more than once this night."

"Oh. Oh!" Understanding dawned and Obi-Wan felt his face heat and pressed it to his Master's chest. He wasn't truly embarrassed, just unused to thinking or speaking of such things, and it seemed that Qui-Gon knew that, because he only chuckled softly and rocked gently, holding him close.

"If you are ready, Padawan, than I am ready for you." He whispered when the amusement died, his voice once again dark and low.

"Yes." Pushing himself up, Obi-Wan got to his hands and knees. "Would you like to turn over, Master?"

"I think that would be easiest." Qui-Gon admitted, moving gracefully to do so. Laying flat on his stomach he stretched and then settled, with a sigh. "Do not make me wait too long, Obi-Wan."

"I wouldn't dream of it." Sitting back on his knees Obi-Wan was enthralled by the vision before him.

Tenderly he rubbed the muscled cheeks that clenched before him, leaning to kiss the small of his Master's back, and watched the skin there shiver lightly.

"So soft..." He crooned, stroking and kissing and licking along the spine. "Soft skin and iron will, my Master."

He was rewarded with another deep, raspy chuckle and a small movement of the hips he petted.

"Waxing poetic, Obi-Wan? I never realized that was one of your skills. I have been seriously remiss in my duties...oh!" The teasing words were cut off when Obi-Wan began to lick lower, tongue teasing at the top of the crevice that divided the muscular buttocks. Encouraged, he used gentle hands to spread them, blowing a stream of warm air down it, taking a good look at this private place. The skin was darker, and puckered, and shone with a slight coating of oil. Running a finger over the center, he waited for a reaction, and his Master stiffened, then shivered, but did not speak.

"Is this what you want?" He felt that he had to ask.

"Yes."

"You are certain?"

"Yes, Padawan, now get on with it." The mixture of apprehension and desire in that voice was his undoing, and the younger man set about making himself as ready as his Master, who quickly relaxed under his touch as he petted and soothed with one hand, oiling himself with the other.

"I'm making a mess." He commented, drops of oil staining the bedclothes as he poured it down his belly one-handed, not wanting to quit touching Qui-Gon, to leave him without that reassurance.

"Wonders never cease." A groan and then Obi-Wan was on his hands and knees over Qui- Gon's supine form, kissing the back of his neck while he sought entry. He felt like he should be saying something, but the moment was too powerful for words and so he tried to open his mind to his Master, to let him feel it with him, but his control didn't extend that far. Then the ring of muscle gave way and he began to enter and Qui-Gon moaned and pressed back onto him and suddenly he felt the connection between them swell - and he could feel his Master, in his mind, the way he had dreamed.

There were no words, only impressions, but they filled him to overflowing with love and desire and anxious memory. Schooling himself, he concentrated on sending back resonances of his own love, the physical pleasure he was feeling, and the beauty he saw in his Master. It was so much that for a moment he got lost in it, and then realized that Qui-Gon was moving beneath him, that he had started moving, unawares, and that the last remnants of fear had subsided from the link.

"Oh yes, Master." He gasped, laying down, getting as close as he could to the body beneath him, keeping his movements slow and even. "More than I dreamed."

"Ah." Qui-Gon seemed beyond words, but the feelings he shared were powerful. His shoulders bunched and rippled with effort, legs spread wide and braced, skin sheened with a fine coat of sweat. With his face in the long hair, which was soft against his overheated skin, Obi-Wan belatedly remembered what he needed to do to give Qui-Gon relief, and slipped a hand around beneath the older man, thrilled to find a heavy erection waiting for it, wrapping it in a fist and stroking in time with his thrusts.

The rhythm became everything - there was nothing left of the world but the heat he plowed and the body he held, no room in his mind for anything but Qui-Gon and the emotions they now shared... Feeling the end growing near Obi-Wan groaned a protest, fighting it off, and heard it echoed from by Qui-Gon...

"Too soon, too soon..."

And then his Master arched backwards, arms lifting his upper body, and twisted his head, searching blindly for Obi-Wan's mouth, which he found, and they kissed awkwardly as he spilled his seed over his Padawan's hand.

Slumping back to the bed, body soft and receiving now, he panted quietly while Obi-Wan basked in the surge of energy he was projecting and thrust several more times before coming himself, a violent explosion of light and sound behind his eyelids, which closed at the last moment despite his best efforts.

"Master?" He gasped a few minutes later, stirring to note that he was plastered to the broad back, using the older man for a mattress.

"Obi-Wan." There was a definite note of amusement in that voice.

"Am I too heavy?"

Shifting slightly, pillowing his head on his arms, Qui-Gon smiled and Obi-Wan glimpsed it behind the curtain of silky hair that screened his face. Tenderly he brushed the hair back and smiled when his fingers were kissed in passing.

"No. Your weight is a welcome challenge, Padawan." Qui-Gon sighed. "Don't go anywhere."

Their hearts were still recovering, slowing from the wild beat that had driven them earlier. Lying his head back down, cheek pressed to a sweaty shoulder Obi-Wan listened to them pound and soon could not tell one from the other.

"Hmmm..." he sighed, eyes closed, one hand trailing up and down Qui-Gon's side, feeling the pattern of scars and muscle.

"Yes." Beneath him Qui-Gon was still and supple, more relaxed than his apprentice remembered having ever seen him. And the bond they had forged, whatever it was, was still open between them, allowing him to sense what his Master felt, to feel it himself and return it.

"I didn't know it would be like this." Qui-Gon whispered.

"The silence is gone." Obi-Wan replied, sleepy now. He kissed the shoulder he rested on.

"Never to return." Using the Force, just a tiny bit, enough for Obi-Wan to feel that he did, the Master shifted them both to more comfortable yet essentially the same positions. "Are you ready to sleep?"

"Mm-hm." Actually starting to doze, Obi-Wan roused himself enough to query; "Do I need to move?"

"Stay right where you are, Padawan." The order was firm but loving. "I could not think of you anywhere else at this moment."

"Thank you." It was something he felt he needed to say. Qui-Gon had faced down old fears to share this with him, to be with him, and he was grateful beyond measure. The thought of being separated from or losing his Master was simply too painful to bear and now he knew it would never happen, not of their own desire.

"Rest, love." Qui-Gon sounded equally sleepy and an easy lassitude spread, between them, replacing the silence, filling it with anticipation and caring.

"Yes, Master." Obi-Wan said, and snickered.

"An arrogant brat, you are." Qui-Gon scolded, sounding like Master Yoda. "Trouble you will be. But well worth it..." He trailed off, humor spent. "I am sorry we had to take that particular path to arrive here."

"As long as we are here the journey isn't important." Barely able to reply, Obi-Wan knew he'd found the right words when the bond flared anew with Qui-Gon's love and acceptance, of himself as well as his student.

Though there were things left to be said, there was now no time limit on them. They had days and months and years to speak of them, and now was the time for reflection. Covering his Master's body with his own, feeling the heartbeat beneath his pound slowly, Obi-Wan let himself drift into sleep. At some point he was aware of being watched, but there was no threat in it and so he slept on, his Master slumbering beneath him, both of them so at ease that they didn't wake when the door to the room was opened and Master Windu came in, shielding himself from their minds, and tenderly covered them up, with a smile on his dark face.

"I am pleased you found someone you could let love you, Qui-Gon Jinn." He whispered into the warm air, watching the two of them breath together. "I despaired of it ever happening."

Backing away from the bed, pausing in the doorway, he let the smile slip and a sadness shone in his eyes. "I just wish it could have been me, thirty years ago."

The door was closed and they slept on, safe and together, wrapped by the Force that guided them in their lives.

The would dance the grand dance again, faster and more powerfully than before, because their souls now danced together.

~~finis~~


End file.
